


The Zero-sum game

by Seiteki9



Series: A tall glass of misery [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst and Smut, Bottom Shiro, M/M, Mafia AU, Mention of rape and violence, Prostitute Shiro, Prostitution, Shiro doing the sexy dance for Keith, Strip Tease, Stripper, Stripping, Stripping AU, police officer keith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-30
Updated: 2018-03-30
Packaged: 2019-04-16 00:09:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14152395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seiteki9/pseuds/Seiteki9
Summary: Young police officer Keith finds himself offered a deal he needs to accept to bring down the Galra, a notorious mafia group terrorizing his city, a deal from a man who could destroy his entire resolve with a single glance."Well, I'm not paralyzedBut, I seem to be struck by youI wanna make you moveBecause you're standing stillIf your body matchesWhat your eyes can doYou'll probably move right throughMe on my way to you"- Paralyzer by Finger Eleven





	The Zero-sum game

 

 

Keith was no stranger to hard work. His teenage years had been full of hardships and he was keenly aware that, at 24, his miseries were far from over. The injustice of his short-lived life had sparked an undying fire in his veins, pulling at his rage and recklessness. At the age of 7, his parents had died in a freak car accident, it apparently had been so brutal, the funeral had two closed caskets. Unable to see his parents one last time, Keith swore that day would be the last time he cried.

From 8 to 18, he was in the system and bounced from family to family, dealing with so many types and instances of violence, he lost count. Screaming at the unfairness of his situation was not his style, so when he was able, and allowed by law, he started working towards a better future. His fingers, heart and soul bled red,, but at least, it was of his own doing.

He worked part-time in video stores, mini-marts, gas stations, did graveyard shifts at packaging manufactures during week-ends, cashing up on any type of job that could fill up his bank account. At 18, he was so close he could smell the freedom, but his latest drunk foster-father grabbed a hold of his bankcard during school, emptying the entire thing in a single weekend. All his work, gone in the wind for a mountain of alcohol he never got to taste. That was when he had had enough. He was ANGRY, so angry he turned almost blind. Barely grasping at his sanity, he stopped himself from smashing in his foster-fucking-father's head as he was comatose by the most obscene amount of empty bottles Keith had ever seen. He just stared at the man for a moment that felt like hours. No. Unfair. Unjust. Unmerited. UNJUSTIFIED. He did not need this, so he stepped out of the house, never to return.

His inconsiderate guardian never tried to get him back, which was excellent since Keith had not intention of agreeing to. Besides, being an orphan of the state was not so bad and Keith had already decided he would solve everything for and by himself.

He turned violent for a while and worked his hands to the bone out of pure frustration. The bastard lone orphan they called him. Nobody wanted him and he wanted nobody back, he was better off alone.

Eventually, dealing with the paperwork and talking with his social worker, he got himself a cheap one-room apartment. He had to juggle 2 jobs while in school, but still made it work. Loosing sleep was nothing compared to the horrors other children dealt with as orphans. He knew too well the stories they whispered under the blankets at night. The touches, the scars, the hidden bruises... Loosing his money set him back, but hard work did not scare him, it drove him to higher goals. Besides, it was just paper.

What terrified him, were others, so he stayed away as much as possible. The only person he ever opened up to was his social worker, Allura Altea. She was a chocolate skinned, blue-eyed gentle soul, second best to his own mother in beauty. Her manners were soft, her gestures smooth and caring. He loved how her fingertips showered him in affection by only hovering above his skin, never truly touching. He loathed touch, especially unwanted touch. She knew him and he respected her for everything that she was and did.  
  
It was through she, that he met Lotor, her husband, a strong, decisive man. The type he inspired to be. He was respected, admired and just. His fair skin and bleached white hair added to the etherealness of him and made a strong impression, especially when Keith learned, at around 15, that Lotor was a policeman. Captain of his own station nonetheless! That set his aspirations in stone. A police officer, if there was a career with which he knew he could help people, help orphans, that was it. Back then, he had not even known what “politics” meant, to this day, he barely understood its implication.

With the help of the power couple, Keith found himself in the academy and graduated with excellence. It's with glowing pride that he started working for and with Lotor. He was 22.

His new superior officer stuffed his brain with more and more information every day. Teaching him the ropes, barely mentioning how deep in the innards of tainted politics Keith might get. He was taught to do the job efficiently and well, no matter the consequences. That was something he understood quite well. The younger man learned quickly how Lotor was the kind of man who actually never truly lied, if only by omission. White lies.

 

_« White lies never really hurt anybody Keith. You need to calculate every word, every slip of your fingers. To omit information, is to be both kind and unprejudiced at times. You understand, fair. »_

 

Unprejudiced. That made Keith scoff so loudly, it pulled an amused smirk out of Lotor's stoic smile. His words had been « kind » and « unprejudiced » right here and then. It was “fair” that Keith never talked about it again, so he did not, not even when the truths about his relationship with Allura surfaced years later.

 

_...discardable._

 

The ridiculous definition of Lotor's made-up fairness was what had put him in his current situation. He had dealt with worse in the past, and the hotel he stepped in that evening was actually glamorous, but a sharp knife still felt twisted in his belly. He just wished that his first real case as an inspector had not been dealing with a high-end prostitute.

Lotor, his boss, his beloved Allura's husband had been meeting with a prostitute once a week. For work... but as the captain, was there such a need to? Couldn't there had been anybody else to do it? Keith pushed the thoughts away, it was not his place to question it.

Lotor was adamant, he had dealt with this source of information for years and knew that Keith was compelling enough that he could get the supplemental details he needed from the whore.

 

_« You're attractive Keith. I am sure you can get us more with less. This source costs us a lot and I have no time or energy to go meet them anymore. It will be good experience for you and it will make you meet someone new. I have faith in you. »_

_« Attractive? Meet someone NEW? Why would I chose to meet a prostitute? I'm not going there to make friends, SIR. »_

_« I am aware, but getting friendly with this contact is beneficial, they are deep in the Galra group. Just make sure you follow the steps and do not forget to drill them for details. They have a tendency to keep things to themselves unless you insist. Now go, you wanted to prove you could be an inspector; this is ME giving you a chance. Take it or leave it boy. »_

 

With the carrot dangling so close in front of his nose, that's what he did, **he took it**. He was becoming like Lotor, give Allura a white lie about it, the sacrificial lamb, for his career.

The meaning of his career. He had to have strength.

He stopped at the bar, wondering if this entire endeavor was worth it. He barely sat on a surprisingly plush stool, brushing his fingers against the dark cherry wood of the counter, marveling at the smoothness of the surface. He waited for the barman to notice him and was glad to see that he did not look out of place. He had worn his best black kakis and a wine red blouse, keeping a few buttons open around his neck. It perfectly framed a necklace he had gotten from his mother before her death. Its charm, a dagger shaped onyx stone, shone against his sharp collarbone. His usually messy black hair had been slicked back behind his ears, a few lost strands dropping on his forehead, the rest tied up in a low ponytail resting on the nape of his neck. It was clean, and his waistcoat was smart enough that he might pass for a young philanthrope. Maybe, a nouveau riche.

 

The barman finally approached him. He was a larger man, his skin dark, rich and his black hair framing his rounder face. His smile was genuine when he talked in a low, friendly tone.

\- Good evening Sir. What can I offer you today?

Keith's eyes slide down for a short moment, taking in the uniform, white blouse, black pants and suit vest. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, showing off his muscled arms. The young man still caught the rings around his fingers, gold, with the Galra symbol etched on it. Right. He filed it up as useful information.

The Galra was the reason Keith was here, notwithstanding the insistence of his superior. They were a violent group that terrorized large portions of his city, owned property, people and offered safety for favors, or cash, safety they did not always give back. The mafia. The leader, Zarkon, was a cold calculating man, he made more money than he could count, killed without prejudice and could control information with a steady unforgiving hand. He was terrifying, dangerous.

The young policeman knew he presently sat deep in his territory. Leaving his badge and firearm at the office had been harder than pulling teeth. He held back from fidgeting, the simple sight of the logo making his blood turn cold.

Keith's eyes slid back up, catching the name embroidered on the left side of the barman's chest: Hunk.

\- A White Lady please.

The barman barely hesitated, his quick hands grabbing a martini glass and a clean shaker.

\- Hold off the citrus. Use lime.

The barman's eyes lazily watched Keith for a moment, as if waiting for more information, but returned to his task, not even acknowledging the detail. Hunk skillfully made the drink, following his request without complaint. Resting the glass on a round gray coaster he smiled professionally.

\- A White Lady, dear customer. It will be 12.50$.

Keith handed off a bill of 20$, as instructed by Lotor, and was given back a small black business card. Taking the glass, he slid off the stool and offhandedly eyed the note. Two words were written in white in its center: « Booth 008 ».

He frowned softly.

Looking up, he eyed the closest table and quickly found what he was looking for. A small white sign was screwed to its side, giving away its identification: 052. As he walked slowly into the hotel's bar, he realized the numbers were counting down, so he made his way to the back. He quickly noticed how sparse the tables were when he finally reached the single digits. 010 was a good 5 meters away from 009, and 008, even farther.

He eyed the booth, wary. It was circled with high seats, a single crystal chandelier hanging in its center, the small entrance facing a wall so that it was private. This entire section of the hotel lounge was a series of closed off spaces, soft private conversations were buzzing in his ears, laughter, inappropriate noises? Booth 008 was dead silent. A place for concealed meetings, perfect for what he was about to do...and apparently many others also did. It made him uncomfortable.

A young man stepped out of booth 006, passing by Keith with easy grace. Their eyes locked and Keith had to look away when he got a teasing wink. Long fingers, brushed on his arm, olive skin to his ghostly white, making Keith twitch. The young man chuckled as he continued his way, blue eyes shining in humor. Another prostitute? By the way he was enticingly swinging his hips, the policeman figured he must have been. That or unashamedly interested.

It made him shiver in horror, wondering how one so young had found himself in such a situation. That boy looked younger than he was.

He had to stop himself from thinking about the welfare of others and think of his own. He, himself, was deep into a Galra filled establishment; he could not let himself get lost in thought, especially for someone who seemed to be faring well for themselves. At least, at this moment. He knew appearances were deceiving, but it would have to do. So, he stepped forward and entered booth 008.

What greeted him was not at all what he had first imagined. Details like « prostitute », « buy a white lady » and how Lotor had introduced who he was meeting as « they » clicked in his mind. That son of a b... He had made sure to dance around the truth, as ALWAYS. White lies, that fucking ASS!

Sitting across the table was the whore in question, a strong, tall, body-builder type of a man. A male, a **beautiful, Asian, MALE**.

 

The man's body was pressed down against the soft fabric of the burgundy seats, his strong legs comfortably crossed and large hands resting on the table, fingers tangled together. Keith stared, registering the tightness of the man's leather pants, or how he was not wearing anything under a studded sleeveless leather jacket, multiple metal necklaces jealously hugging his neck and chest. His gaze followed the perfectly sculpted hands, how the muscles and bones seemed to shift under the skin when he lifted the right one slowly from the wooded surface. The digits barely twitched, when he grabbed his jacket's collar, pulling softly to replace it on his shoulders, dragging attention to the intricate tattoos covering his right arm, a full sleeve of a black lion roaring. Round nails barely caught on the fabric, letting go and finally scrapping the skin of his strong, square jaw. The thumb moved up, pressing against a full rosy lip as it slid to its corner, lifting it up into a seductive corner smile. The young policeman barely registered the scar on his nose, mesmerized.

The man's head tilted to the side, finally hooking Keith's gaze, violet to thundering gray. The shift of his head made his long mane move, braids perfectly twisted in the midst of soft curls blending from black to hints of grey, with a long attractive strand of white, framing his serene face. His hair slide against his long neck, the skin of it so tight, Keith swore he could almost see a heartbeat.

High-end prostitute no fucking SHIT. That guy was... he was... **pornographic**. The kind you wanted to bend over and hope to God you could satisfy so well they would cry, or at the very least moan your name loud enough to make any masturbation session henceforward a complete and unadulterated success.

He radiated confidence as he stretched his legs under the table, his smile widening.

\- Aah... my usual patron did say they would send somebody new. Greetings.

His voice was low and sultry, the words rolling off his tongue with surprising ease. His gaze still locked unto Keith, they slowly scrolled down his body in avid interest. His tongue peaking out of his mouth, licking the corner softly, his eyes finally coming back to Keith’s face. The young man felt too small for his skin. He was on fire.

Damn...

At this point in his life, Keith had barely known what he was attracted to, since he had not cared nor bothered with exploring his sexuality. He DID have a lot of experiences under his belt, had dabbled with women and spent a lot of time with men from time to time, but had never singled out a preference. But right now, he was so gay for this man, he would do ANYTHING to climb on top of him and have his dirty way with his lewd body. He felt his cock respond at the mere sight of him and stepped forward, as the need to hide his growing protuberance became a staggering urgency.

_Keith… you… are a police officer… you can’t just WANT TO SLEEP WITH A PROSTITUTE._

Those thoughts chastised him enough that felt himself act more naturaly, so he nodded slowly at the man.

He then looked down at the table, ripping his eyes from the smoldering gray, spotting a detail Lotor had mentioned earlier that day. He was supposed to put down his glass on a coaster on the middle of the table, confirming what he was here for: Black for information, red for... (cough) sex and well... on the table for both. Not that he would ever... consider... pushing those shapely legs open. (…well that’s already done… let’s file that away.) He bit back a groan, resting the glass on the black coaster, while sitting down as gracefully as he could manage.

The man hummed, his eyes staring at the glass on the table. He reached forward, picking it up and rested it in between the two coasters. Chuckling, he made it spin slowly between his fingers. He closed his eyes, smiling softly and looked back up, staring at Keith through his long eyelashes.

\- Name?

Keith hesitated. Technically, Lotor had said this man was a trusted contact, one he had dealt with for a long time. He had a few questions, considering what this person did for a living. Had Lotor... put the drink elsewhere at some point? Did he want to know? He morbidly did. Not even for Allura's sake. That unsettled him so much, his true name spilled from his lips.

\- Keith Kogane... Yours?

The man's strong fingers slid on the glass, circling around the base at a leisurely pace. He pushed the coasters away. Keith marveled at the patience this beautiful person emitted. His movements seemed always slow and calculated, his entire body radiating comfort, calm. He was either very practiced, uncaring of his situation, or compartmentalized with great skill. He wondered for how long the man had sold himself. Considering his ease, it must have been in years, many of them.

\- That... sounds like your real name, Keith Kogane.

Keith frowned. Well, that had been a small set back, but giving his real name was both a mistake and something he had wanted to do. This person made him want to do a great many things he rarely did for anybody. It was alarming. Keith knew it was part of his skills as an information broker; he made people either very comfortable or uneasy. The young officer was sitting on that fence, his body tilting from one side to the other, never falling.

\- That's because it is.

The man chuckled, picking up the drink and sipping it slowly.

\- Aah... I do think you realized it, but I love to collect information, and you are giving it so freely. That's really... adorable, it makes me wonder what I could get out of you with the skills that I own.

That comment troubled Keith a bit, but he decided against replying. He could not help his cheeks flushing however. He knew that controlling his outbursts of anger was part of proving he could be a good inspector. He took a deep breath, the man was just teasing.

The man hummed again, his lips twitching as he sipped his drink some more and rested the glass back down, letting go.

\- You may call me Shiro. I AM after all, the « White Lady ». Now, what would you like to ask about, dear customer?

Keith shrugged, not too sure what Shiro meant about the White Lady comment. It seemed unimportant, so he ignored it. He had quite a lot of questions, so he opened his mouth, only to reconsider immediately. This man seemed to take everything into thought, his body language was relaxed, but precise, his words calculated, preconceived. His intentions were unclear, his gaze sharp and his intellect clearly vibrant and strong.

He had said « what would you like to ask about », not « what is your question ». Patience was not one of Keith's virtues, but Shiro had made him contemplate on it. Lotor did say he might be able to get more information out of him if he drilled correctly. Was this a test?

Shiro stared at him as his mind processed his thoughts; he seemed amused, seeing the gears in Keith's head turning noisily. Waiting, he leaned back, rubbing the fingers of his left hand together slowly. The young officer clung to the movement, itching? Was he itching for something?

He opened back his mouth, a short answer was always the best.

\- The Galra.

The man’s gaze barely flicked to the side, his expression flashing between sadness, exhaustion and finally back to stoic indifference.

Shiro nodded, pushing himself up and out of his seat. Keith's eyes followed him as he picked up the red coaster from the table and his drink, downing the entire thing in one go. The young officer watched Shiro’s Adam's apple bob slowly, his pulse quickening suddenly. The man had been sitting since the beginning, but now that he was standing, Keith could only admire his marble carved body, large with square shoulders, thin waist, defined abs, pecks, strong arms, legs twice the size of his arms. Shit. This guy was inhumanly good looking.

Hearing the glass clatter softly on the table again, his eyes shot back up at Shiro's face. His smile was knowing, Keith had been caught staring.

\- Come.

Keith stood up quickly, a little too eagerly, which made the man chuckle softly. Shiro approached him, stopping so close, the young policeman had to look up to see those unwavering stormy eyes. Shiro’s natural body heat engulfed Keith in a comfortable bubble. His cologne's fragrance, the smell of earth, Amazonian forests and a hint of nutmeg, reached his nostrils, making his head swim. Keith focused on his eyes; gaze dancing with humor. He leaned even closer, making Keith's head tilt up so that he could still watch him.

Something solid pressed against his jaw that had apparently been hanging (when had that happened?!), and forced it closed. It was the red coaster. Shiro had not touched him, but Keith's entire body still shivered with raw desire. He wanted those fingers on him so badly, it hurt.

\- Better keep this close, you know... in case you change your mind.

He whispered his words, his voice low and seductive, completely aware of the impact he had on the young man. Keith mechanically took the coaster as he swallowed painfully; making sure his fingers did not brush Shiro's. He stuffed it in his pant pocket. The man winked at him and spun around smoothly, exiting the booth. Who said he could get information out of this man? His boss was wrong, so wrong it was laughable. That man was a menace. Lotor should not have sent him here, he had to leave immediately. He’ll tell him that he did not have the skills to deal with this. It would set him back again from his goals but... shit... he really could not do this.

A small battle in his head started raging on, the child screaming, the hormones raging and the rational part of him balancing the good and the bad from it.

 

« Move forward Keith _, you have the power to do this. »_

_(But I can't...! What if he...?)_

_< Stop complaining you baby!>_

 

_« It's one man. A prostitute. He's not dangerous. »_

_< He’s HOT. Look at that ass! Woah!>_

_(He's making me feel things I don't want to feel!)_

 

_« He was trained to be like this, trained to get people to talk, trained to ensure that clients wanted to come back. You are simply responding, it's not abnormal. »_

_(I don't have the power to do this. He's going to take everything and leave nothing back!)_

_< You don’t have anything, why are you crying? Fuck… just let me have him!>_

 

_« Being an inspector is everything that you want. You can learn from this._

_(What's to learn?!)_

_< A looooot of dirty things. <3 >_

 

_« Everything! Or at least move on to be inspector. Imagine it! You could get your nose into the system, change things, if you get passed this. Help the ones who could not help themselves. Save them. »_

_< Man up Keith!>_

_(….................)_

 

_« Strength Keith. Dig deep, you have it. This is nothing... NOTHING compared to what you've already done in the past. »_

_< MAN UP!>_

_(…....................................)_

 

_« You are strong. You can do this. It's... just flirting, simple flirting. »_

_(...what if I need to do more?)_

 

 _« <_ _**You need to do what you must. > ** _ _»_

 

The small child in his mind wept, he knew they other parts of him were right. The battle was won and it tasted like bitter misery.

 

He had to do anything for all the siblings he had in the system, anything, even loose his own dignity. He slid a hand on the back of his neck, taking a deep breath and finally stepped out of the booth, a new resolve burning in his mind. For his brothers and sisters, he would play the game, even if he stood on the edge of loosing everything.

Passing through the bar with comfortable ease, Shiro weaved through the patrons, nodding at some, smiling at others. Keith tried to ignore the knowing looks he was given, especially from the barman, and was only too relieved when they stepped into an elevator at the end of the lobby.

Shiro remained silent as they rode up, Keith eyeing the back of his head as he leaned against the farthest wall. He took the time to study Shiro as the small metal box climbed the floors silently. He let his eyes roam the man's body, marveling at the sharp angles and the soft curves, how the man seemed so much larger than he was. Study was not the right word; he was appraising him, like a piece of MEAT. That single notion made Keith look away shamefully.

This man was not a tool for him to use and discard when done, he was a person, had feelings. He pushed his hands further in the pocket of his jacket, grabbing at the thick orange envelop Lotor had given him that morning. _« Payment for service, everything was already agreed upon »,_ he had said. Shiro was a source of information, and everything had its price, Keith was just wondering how much he could pull out of him before he reached the limits of their funds.

The elevator dinged and the doors opened. Shiro stepped out and turned left, still silent. Keith looked up and around, impressed by the opulence of his surroundings. Warm colored walls, thick sepia carpets, wooden furniture, comfortable feathery seats, vibrant green plants, a luxurious, extravagant setting. Shiro clearly had power in his hands, he had to be close to an important member of the Galra.

That thought rang as perilous.

Lotor must have trusted Keith a great deal to send him here. Considering the amount of money that was pressing on his chest, heavying his footsteps, Shiro's information **had** to be worth every penny. That knowledge should have grounded Keith. It did not.

The fact that there were only two doors on the floor did not help at all. Suites? Really? Why would... oh god... high-end prostitute... with high-end means.

He still followed silently and stepped in the room when Shiro opened the door for him. The entire thing was almost offending, multiple rooms in rich purples and whites, sheer fabric hanging around the high windows, the same soft carpet on the ground, a kitchen, large on-suite bathroom covered in colorful marble, chandeliers hanging everywhere and the mellow sent of lilacs hanging in the air.

 

Overwhelming.

 

His steps led him to the middle of the room, not too sure what to do with himself. At least he had made his way here, which was a lot more than he originally thought possible. Being comfortable was impossible, he was out of his element. As a police officer, he was more used to unhappy people, the ones who screamed at you when you gave them speeding tickets for obvious reasons. The present situation was probably the farthest from his job description.

Shiro passed by him, dropping out of his shoes along the way, his socks sliding off just as easily. He kicked them to the side, then turned around, walking backwards, a smile plastered on his handsome face. Chuckling, he motioned with his finger seductively for Keith to follow him. The young man did without a second thought, feeling his heartstrings being pulled at (More like his lecherous intentions, but who was checking?).

Still walking backwards, Shiro walked into a bedroom and stopped only when he reached the bed, sitting on it, crossing his long legs. Keith stopped short, not entering the room.

\- Lets talk business, Mr Kogane.

He tapped on the bed besides him when he noticed that Keith had stopped at the entrance.

\- Don’t worry. I won’t eat you.

Keith frowned, his cheeks coloring at the implication. He raised eyebrow, examining the man that was trying to get him to sit on a bed when there was not need to. He stuffed his right hand into his pant pocket, leaning his other arm against the door-frame. To his dismay, he felt the coaster hitting his knuckles. Aaah shit… he gripped at it, hoping he would have the strength to keep his mind on a single track: Get the information.

\- Can’t we just sit in the living room?

Shiro shook his head, smiling sadly. He stood up, walking up to him again, his large frame towering over Keith. That made the young man a little weak in the knees. Seeing as this was probably the other man’s intention, Keith’s eyes still did not leave his face when he took his left hand, pulling him in the room, visibly ignoring the resistance. This man was just as strong as he looked, that made the young officer stumble a bit.

He sat on the bed again, keeping his grip tight on Keith’s fingers. The young man still did not sit down.

\- What you need to understand, Mr. Kogane, is that we are not alone.

Keith’s eyes widened in horror and he was about to look around when Shiro pulled him down on the bed roughly. With a yelp, the young officer bounced on the feathery bed, the other climbing on his lap. Shiro leaned forward, his face inching so close, Keith felt his breath on his pinking cheeks. His long hair pooled around Keith’s head while a gasp died in the young man's throat. His first reaction was to grab Shiro by the arms, his self-defense training kicking in as he tried to push him away. He did not notice how he had stopped breathing.

\- …Keith… I am a prostitute. If people think we are talking instead of FUCKING, you could get killed. Understand me when I say this, what we are doing right now is dangerous… you need to listen to me. And breathe, please breathe. Yes?

Keith brows knit so tight he felt the sudden pang of a headache stab his forehead. He inhaled sharply. His grip tightened on Shiro’s large muscles and he easily spun them around, using his legs as leverage. He slammed the large man down on the purple blankets, twisting his arm on his back. He leaned forward, pressing his chest down his other hand grabbing at Shiro’s neck.

\- I would think them seeing me fucking walk in here with you should be proof enough. I’m not here for your satisfaction White Lady.

That made Shiro laugh happily. He looked back, his long curls fanned on the soft fabric like a halo.

\- Ooh... Is THAT what you like? <3

Keith twisted his arm a little closer and lifted his other hand pulling at the man’s hair with too much force. His teeth gritted close to his prey’s ear as he growled dangerously.

\- You do realize I could take you in? Prostitution is a fallacy punishable by… quite a few years in prison. I’m sure the guys in there would love you.

\- You ARE aware that I can feel your boner right?

It was difficult for Keith to ignore the banter, but he still did, remembering everything he had battled about in his own mind just minutes ago. His nails still dig in the man’s wrist, while the other pulled even harsher. He refused to move his body, aware that Shiro might be trying to twist away. Shiro’s shoulder popped.

\- Don’t try my patience whore.

A groan escaped Shiro’s mouth when the nails dig deeper; his body seemed to curve under Keith’s, his fine ass rubbing against the young man’s groin roughly. He growled a low “shit…”, swallowing and let his head be forced back with a soft pant. His eyes were watering, but they still twisted back, eyeing Keith with interest.

\- I… I’m not trying to. I apologize officer. I… pff… please, ease up. I was not lying, people always watch me when I work, for a great many reasons.

\- What do you mean?

Keith pushed farther, his nose brushing against the man’s ear, his manhood digging in the soft flesh of his rear. He might have been… enjoying this… too much. Shiro moaned, his eyes rolling back.

\- Officer… I… thought you did not want to play…?

Keith growled low in the man's ear.

\- Answer.

\- Cameras. They put came…cameras in here to keep an eye on me. There’s no sound, just… nngh… just image so… as long as they think I… I’m doing my job I…. aah… I can do what I w-want.

At that, Keith let go, stepping back, while a helpless whine escaped Shiro’s lips. He took a deep breath, ignoring the urge to tie this man up and make him cry for release. He turned around, shaking his head. Fuck. What was he doing? This wasn’t suppose to happen, at least, not like THIS. He was an officer of the law, not an overstimulated teen falling for every urge.

Shiro was panting behind him. He heard the sound of fabric and finally a laugh. It was slightly strained, but still playful.

\- Don’t feel too bad officer. You don’t have to go all the way with me to have the information that you want. I have many ways to make it look like we’re having a good time. And fun doesn’t imply sex… all the time. Not that I would refuse.

\- I’d rather die than fall for the insipid words of a prostitute. So you can keep your thoughts to yourself.

And here he was again, spitting hateful words at this poor man… People were rarely prostitutes by choice, Keith was aware of this. However, his present physical reactions made him so wound up, he could not help himself. He vomited words covered in his stress. Shiro did not seem to mind so much. That did not stop Keith from apologizing a few beats later.

\- Sorry…

\- It’s fine. Nothing I’ve never heard before. Even though I’d prefer if you just called me “Shiro”.

Keith was ashamed; he felt bad for this man, for everything that he had done and was about to do. He knew this person was probably in constant danger, being constantly under the watchful eye of his Galra pimp. He mumbled another apology, which made Shiro laugh softly again.

 

The man stood up from the bed, without another word, making his way to an iPod station where a small black device was resting. There was an indifferent smile on his face, as he flicked through the list on the screen, looking for a song in particular. When a melody began, beats of the drum resonating in the speakers across the room, he nodded, turning around. The expression on his face was serene, calm, accepting of everything and anything.

\- Safe option, officer, one that should be mild enough to satisfy you. I can dance for you.

Instantly, Keith’s face shifted between about any imaginable hue of the color red or blue as he turned around to face the tempting morsel of a man. He was about to argue against it, when Shiro rose his hand, lifting his index finger. _One second._ The young man froze on the spot, strangely chastised. What?

\- No need. You are going to be against everything I suggest. I promise, what I am offering now…

He stepped forward, his naked feet softly pressing down on the carpets with steady grace, to the beat of the music, hand smoothing his hair back provocatively. He smirked, amused. It made Keith scramble back, terrified.

\- …dancing, doesn’t require me to touch you…

The young man reached the bed, falling in a sitting position on it. That didn’t stop Shiro from progressing in the room, dangerously close. His expression shifting from amused to predatory. Hooooly shit, this expression was not something Keith had ever thought he wanted for himself. But, right now, he sure did. He blinked rapidly, mortified by his own thoughts, and even more aroused by them. Biting his lower lip, panic engulfed him.

 

A single word seemed to ring out in Keith’s head.

 

_Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck._

 

He was going crazy for sure. That man he was... dangerous… incredibly… horribly… enticingly… scrumptiously… **DANGEROUS**. Holy mother of please fuck me up until I cry and my ancestors moan your name… his soul was going to prematurely exit his body. Keith clung to it, failing to save himself from his imminent end.

\- …or you to touch me. Even if you’ll probably WANT to…

 

_HE ALREADY DID._

 

He kept approaching. He was too close! Look at that body, those legs, those hips... his eyes were roaming on his smaller frame... undressing him without shame... making his legs open... his toes curl... aaaahhh... FUCK!!

Keith clambered up the bed, almost on his back. His fingers clawed at the fabric, his feet pushing up and away from Shiro as fast as possible, until he slammed hard against the headboard. He flinched but did not dare look away from the prize, which was climbing on the bed and prowling his way. The man licked his lips, arousal visible in his clear eyes, irises blown wide.

\- …don’t worry… we can chat this way… it won’t look strange at all, but you **will** have to watch.

He grabbed Keith’s foot, flicking one shoe off, then the other. The leather shoes rebounded across the room, one disappearing under the dresser and the other bumping against a mirrored closet. Keith swallowed when the mattress dipped under Shiro’s weight as he approached even closer. He stopped when he was kneeling on top of the young man, towering over him like a hungry predator.

Keith’s gaze slithered up, taking in the well-defined abs, sculpted chest and perfect velvety skin. He registered in the details of the tattoo, the lion, flowers, planets, twisted tribal, lifting his chin as high as he could, craning his neck, catching Shiro’s eyes.

\- …think you can manage that… officer?

Shiro purred the nickname, making it his own. It did things to Keith's insides which left them the consistancy of warmed butter.

Keith croaked an answer that sounded something like a “Yes”. Cursing at himself in his mind, he wished he had more control over his everything.

Shiro smiled wickedly as his body started oscillating to the music. He raised up his arms, one hand on his chest and the other against his square jaw as he parted his lips, sliding up his neck and to the back of his head, scratching, leaving fading marks. His right pulled at the leather of his vest as he seductively rolled his shoulders, his muscles stretching, pulling under his taut skin.

The young police officer knew about the term “being thirsty for someone” and he never understood it as well as he did at this very moment. He was quite litteraly parched.

\- …well then… ask away. <3

Keith could not help but enjoy what the soft light of the room did to Shiro's skin, it made it gleam like satin, a rare treat. His mouth watered had the thought of tasting it, so he swallowed again, his throat raspy. His body was visibly in need of something wet and tight, he ignored it (or tried to).  
  
One thing at a time, so questions and... the honorific he was using.

The sound of Shiro ragged breathing made him shiver. _Oh dear God, give me strenght..._ He swallowed again.

\- Just... call me Keith. I swear to god, it will feel less awkward than officer. Somewhat... maybe... I'm not sure but... j-just Keith is fine.

Shiro chuckled some more, his body bending with unnatural elasticity, his hips rolling dangerously close to Keith's and his hands roaming across his own body pressing on the soft roundness of his abs or skipping across ribs the young man would really love to lick. It made his fingers twitch with need.

\- Keith...? Or maybe... Baby? Firecracker? Tator tot? Cherrybomb? Rooocksstarr?

Keith rolled his eyes snorting, pulling a grin from Shiro's full lips.

\- Alright... Keith it is... Keith. Keith... Aaaah... aah... Keith... Yesss... Keith... What can I do for you **Keiiiith... <3**

The chant of his name just made the entire experience worse (read “better” here), especially when Shiro bent forward, his lips approaching Keith's ear and filthily moaning by the end of it, his breath wet against his lobe. Keith cursed, holding back from pushing him away. Play the game. Play the game, it won’t kill you… at least not too quickly.

He turned his head to the side, chewing on his lip, swallowing a grunt, or a groan, or anything that might have sounded like he was pleased in anyway.

\- ...you are... you really aren't pulling any punches aren't you?

That got him another playful laugh. Shiro exhaled, his breath caressing Keith's skin as he slowly moved his head down. The policeman started feeling the beat of the music in both his heart and his groin, his body wanting to move in sync with Shiro’s. This was a bad start, he was not certain he would be able to do his job. Not. At. All.

\- Question?

Keith's lungs were burning from strain and he realized he had started panting already. He could not close his eyes, so forced his gaze to fix on a single point in the middle of Shiro's back. If that could help him concentrate, he would take it, still he could see the large shoulders and defined hips move indecently. If he could just... stay... still... for a moment.

He blinked slowly, pulling himself together enough that he could think of a question. He wished then that Lotor had given him anything to go with. The entire experience was a delightful failure and his mentor had too much faith in him.

\- I-I-I... ye-yes... Galra, you work for them, d-don't you?  
  
Good job Keith, first question stuttering, you are the paragon of respect and strength. Slow clap to you, NOW he'll take you seriously.

Before the young man could argue with himself further, Shiro's hands shot up, slamming hard against the headboard around Keith's head. When he reeled back in surprise, focusing back on Shiro, he was almost taken apart by how much closer the older man has gotten, his lips hovering above Keith's, millimeters away. As he talked, Keith could feel them brush infinitesimally on his own, making his skin tingle pleasantly.

\- That is not quite right. The Galra own me, I am property, but I do not think you are ready to know the name of the person who posses my ass just yet, pretty boy.

_Pretty boy?_

With new found strength his gaze became unyielding, as Keith stared at Shiro, enjoying how he loomed over him, his hands so close he could just cup his cheek and kiss him. He filed the information about Shiro being “owned” in the “stuff to deal with quickly” drawer of his mind, blinking slowly.

\- Not Zarkon Daibazaal?

Shiro nodded slowly.

\- ...or Haggard Daibazaal.

Blowing softly on Keith’s skin, Shiro resumed his ministrations, his warm breath caressing Keith’s jaw and neck, never touching. His palms slide down, nails scrapping at the wood of the headboard and then pressing down next to the young man’s hands who were still clutching at the blankets under him. He crawled back down, still moving to the beat of the music, hips swinging slowly.

\- Is **this** all that you do for them?

Keith could hear the smile in his voice when Shiro answered.

\- Are you certain you want to ask about me…?

As he whispered this, Shiro clenched the tip of Keith’s collar between his teeth, pulling softly. That made the young man groan, especially when his top button released, revealing his neck further and a larger part of his collarbone. His necklace scratched his skin softly when his body went rigid from fear and need twisting in his gut.

Keith’s breath itched when Shiro blew on him some more, his skin rising into goosebumps, making him shiver all the way down his spine.

\- If you have access to important information, I-I do.

\- Huh, there’s a first for everything I guess. Fair enough… The answer is no. I do many “things” for them.

Keith huffed in annoyance. Lotor had said how Shiro would not give much when he was asked questions, but this was getting ridiculous.

\- Shiro.

The man chuckled, raising his head, a grin plastered on his face. He stood up slowly, hips swinging, arms rising, as he caressed his own body some more; bulge tight in his leather pants. Grabbing the belt loops of his pants, he rolled his pelvis his circles, body jerking to the beat, lips parted, eyes half-lidded.

\- Yes?

Turning around, he bent forward and slowly rose back up in a provocative manner. His round ass bounced, his coat riding up, showing the skin of his lower back as he started humming the music softly. Keith couldn’t deny his skills, this man knew how to make himself tempting and he was too close to succeeding for his own good.

Keith sighed, setting his thoughts a little bit straighter. It probably took a little too long, as he kept staring at the pendulum motion of Shiro’s body above him, hypnotized.

\- Tell me what you do, I mean… besides what ever THIS is. Don’t be a tease, spill the goods.

Twisting his hair around one of his hand, Shiro turned his head, looking down at Keith, his grin still apparent.

\- Do you have ANY idea how many innuendos you crammed up in that sentence there?

He cackled loudly.

\- Alright alright, I’ll tell you, since you are so pretty. I am an information’s gatherer. A leech. I bend over, suck dry, fuck out the good guys to gather information for the Galra. I’m very good at it and have probably seen more dick from your own office than you have, pretty boy.

Keith scoffed. Sadly, he was not surprised by this knowledge. He just did not understand how Shiro could be considered such a good source by Lotor, especially since the flow of information went both ways, clearly steadier from the other end.

Letting go of his flowing hair, the gorgeous man grabbed his belt, sliding it off slowly and dropping it to the ground with a soft thud. He then grabbed the top of his pants, twisting his hips so that Keith could see he was untying them slowly. The button popped between his fingers, as he licked his top lip suggestively.

\- I have spread my legs for a great many powerful men and know so many hidden secrets, it would make your blood curdle. I am not expendable, nor replaceable, a true asset is what ever THIS tease is my sweet. Spilled goods or not, I am worth a lot. Men ADORE me.

Keith’s eyes slid down, locking unto the peaking sharp hipbones as Shiro started sliding his pants down. He soon realized how the man was NOT wearing any underwear when the top of his tight ass appeared above the fabric. The apex of his valley glistened in sweat and Keith would have given anything to dip his tongue in between the perfect mounds to taste the saltiness. However, to his dismay, as the pants went down, so did his leather coat, hiding his new found love for outdoor panorama.

\- …well… I can’t say I want to comment on that. Wha… W-What’s the latest thing you learned from us?

Keith held back a frown, wishing he could get his voice under control. His thoughts went a little bit astray. Shiro had been abused in so many ways he felt a strange kinship for the man. He wondered how much he was keeping under wrap, hidden deep inside his heart, his true feelings.

Still, Keith kept watching, guilt and desire waging a war within himself as the tight leather pants slid down perfect legs, then were kicked away. Shiro gracefully kneeled back down, making sure his ass was still covered by the leather coat, while his shoulders and back were now fully bare.

Shiro had mentioned dancing, not stripping. Keith thought about complaining, really strongly thought about it.

\- From you guys? Your name, Keith Kogane.

Keith’s answer was another growl.

Shiro tittered as he tilted his head back, his long hair sliding across his chiseled back. He winked at Keith, completely aware of what he had just done. Slowly sliding back, he stopped when Keith’s nose was inches away from his skin, arching his back, pelvis tilting and spine rolling attractively under his skin.

Head left, to the beat, and right to the beat, shoulders rolling, hips waving, to the beat, to the beat, waist twisting, arms weaving, making his vest slid across his skin, across his ass, always to the beat, to the beat...

The low baritone of his voice pierced through the fog.

\- I learned how the police actually did not know about Zarkon’s current condition.

The young man could not help but lean forward, his lips craving the taste of his skin. From this close, he could tell the difference between the man’s cologne and his shampoo as it filled his nostrils, its sweet sent enticing him even further. This man was everything he’d ever wished for, if only he had been anybody else.

He pushed the words out, his voice sounding raspy, an edge of arousal crackling, apparent.

\- He… pff… His current condition? What IS his… current condition? Is something wrong with him?

While Shiro’s voice remained carefree and light.

\- Terminal cancer. He’s on his death bed. His son is about to take over. Tragic really. Haggard is beside herself, she can’t keep the information secret, especially within their ranks. A real disaster, quite entertaining.

The information made Keith perk up, he moved in, resting his chin on Shiro’s shoulder so that he could see his face, naked man on his lap forgotten. A son, Zarkon had a son? How come he had no knowledge of this? Why hadn’t Lotor learned about this already? Had Shiro been keeping the detail wrapped within his webs of lies and deceptions? He must have.

\- What? I didn’t even know Zarkon had a son. What’s his name?

There was no surprise on Shiro’s face when he turned his head, his nose bumping against Keith’s. He seemed to take it as a sign, pressing his warm body against Keith, stretching, making sure that the young man could feel every muscle, bump and curve against his own. He smiled softly, visibly pleased, his voice still a low whisper.

\- Pretty boy…

His smiled stretched, fondness reaching his usually indifferent eyes.

\- ...you’ll have to pay a lot more to know this information. I can’t say I’m prepared to give it willingly or easily. Zarkon’s son is problematic, dangerous, well connected. He's the one who owns me. He has so much power, people have no idea who he is and what he is capable of.

He raised his tattooed arm, his large hand sliding in Keith’s disheveled hair as he curved his back, his hips moving his a wide circle, intently rubbing against the young man’s rigid manhood, a moan escaping his lips.

Keith snarled in return, one arm clinching Shiro around his narrow waist and the other grabbing his wrist, stopping the movement. His gaze sharpened, his inspector instincts kicking in. Refused information was usually a gold mine, one he definitely needed to dig into.

\- I don’t give a damn.

His grip tightened on the man’s wrist.

\- What do you want for him? I thought the payment was already agreed on, aren’t you being greedy?

Shiro did not seem to mind, pushing his body even deeper into Keith’s embrace. He tilted his head further back, soft lips pressing on the skin below the young man’s ear as he answered.

\- You don’t understand. Me divulging this will get you into heaps trouble, as well as myself. You only paid for standard information about the Galra, not about its future leader. Exchange of equal value Cherrybomb.

Keith snorted at the moniker, he pushed Shiro roughly away, ignoring how he yelped in surprise and how delicious he looked naked, glowing skin taut around his defined muscles, cock rigid and glistening with precum, pupils blown wide, the kind of man you'd want to fuck into oblivion.

Keith let the man land on his side, Shiro's face blanching in surprise. Standing up on the bed, Keith approached him, pressing a foot on his chest, forcing him down and leaning in, not caring about the strength he pressed on the man’s body. He was hungry, starving for so many things at once, it made him reckless.

\- I don’t give a damn I said. Tell me what you want in exchange for him. Money? Information? A way out of your hellhole?

Shiro stared up at him for a few heartbeats, eyes mirroring every horror Keith had every lived and endured. They were similar weren’t they? The violence, the unwanted touches, the bruises, the pain, the loneliness, it was something they both shared. Keith became aware at this moment of how they had connected.

 

They had possibly begun on the same path in life, being brutally ripped from the arms of their parents and squeezed into a way of life they had never asked for. One of them had been lucky, while the other not so much. Reaching the fork of the road, they had separated only to meet again later down the lane. One broken beyond repair, the other striving for acceptance, both hoping desperately to belong.

Fixated on Shiro’s face, Keith waited. He waited for a sign, an answer, anything. When it came, it was a soft whisper coated in fear and agony.

\- I want you.

It was so heart wrenching, that it made him sink back down on the bed. He kneeled next to Shiro, unbelieving. He wanted to reach out and caress his hair, his face, hold him maybe, he didn’t.

\- What? M-ME?

A man that had sex for a living wanted **him** . A man so beautiful, endearing, a walking wet dream, a fucking porn star wanted to be taken apart by **him** , a guy he barely knew, who's experience barely compared, who had no pleasing feature about his awkward body.

Utter disbelief made him throw his hands in the air and fall back on the bed like a led stone. Fury burned at the edge of his thoughts, sex as payment. Sex… as payment, with him? Why? Why? WHY? He could have done just about ANYTHING ELSE, he had contacts, had a fair amount of power, had strength, even some friends and this man, this man who talked and fucked for a living… he wanted… THAT? Could he not desire for anything else? How about more money? Or a favor? Usually, people like him loved favors, why in all seven levels of hell would he want THAT? It made no sense at all. Keith was frustrated.

\- Are you fucking serious?

There was no anger in his voice even though he must have emitted it in strong waves with his body language.

Shiro turned towards him, his naked body pressing against Keith’s side. The young man felt his hand press on his calf, as he leaned his forehead against his leg. His fingers clutched at the fabric of the ruffled pant leg, he inhaled deeply, his voice barely a whisper.

\- Very.

More anger surged as Keith sat back up. The red rage in his eyes met the calm grey surface of Shiro’s dead sea, he still spat his answer, words tumbling out of his mouth in a never ending storm, pure venom.

\- Why? Having sex is your fucking **job**. You do it every day, what’s so special about me doing this for you? Is it because of what I am? Or you want to add another notch to your fuck list? 7 on 10 for Keith, could have been better! He was a scrawny kid anyway! Or is it because I really don’t want you?

The vivid frustration in Keith’s words must have woken Shiro up, because he slowly sat up, his expression returning to its regular mask of stoicism. His hand, however, remained on Keith’s leg, still solidly gripping the fabric for dear life.

He smiled softly, bending a leg so that he could lean on it, hiding the most interesting part of himself at the same time.

\- You should not lie. I can see it in your eyes. You want me so badly, your entire body is resisting the pull this very moment, I can feel it too. You DO want me, a great deal even, probably as much as I do.

Keith sighed, irritated. His face was burning at the implication and he could not deny the truth any more than he could ignore the fact that he really needed this information, something even Lotor did not know, Zarkon’s son. It would prove what he was ready to do to be the best.

He felt dirty.

\- Fine. Lets say I DO want you. Why would you even consider me a good payment? I’m not anything special.

Shiro’s smile stretched into something the young man now recognized. He was pleased, amused, he knew what to say to win. Shit.

\- I rarely meet someone my type, if not ever. You are worth a lot in my eyes. Compared to huge alpha type males that get a kick out of making a guy my size buckle under them or the reverse. So… either you have the info you want by offering your delectable body to me, or you don’t and we keep talking about the Galra. It’s a zero-sum game, I win you lose, but you still get what you want. Take it or leave it pretty boy.

Keith’s heart faltered at the word “delectable”

He leaned forward, hiding his face in his hands. Why would he… Why was he… He had no strength left… none at all… because Shiro was both right and wrong. Zero-sum game.

\- That’s… blackmail…

Keith’s eyes peaked between his fingers, shaded by dark bangs when he felt Shiro’s hand press on his shoulder gently. His thumb rubbed circles as he smiled softly him.

\- I guess it is. Nobody said life was fair. Life sure hasn’t been fair to me or to you or our parents. I am not forcing you, I’m asking for equal value in return for the information I was expressively ordered to not divulge. It’s fair. Besides, you want me. Feels like you're winning to me as well.

 

 _Life sure hasn’t been fair to me or to you or our parents._ That comment made him straighten up in panic, while Shiro remained impassive.

 

\- How do you…!?!

He paused. Did he know him?

 

_I am an information’s gatherer._

 

If Shiro’s knowledge went this far, he really was… a very valuable asset. He had gone so far as to get information on a lowly police officer. Keith realized then why Shiro could not ask for help or freedom, he was so deep in the Galra organisation that they would never let him go. If he ever tried to escape, they would find him to either use him until he died or kill him in cold blood. Therefore, Shiro endured with the smell of death following his every step.

The young police officer sincerely wondered if the older man’s life was worth every misfortune he went through. Every single day, having to give your body to strangers, pulling the tiniest details out of mundane facts from politicians you saw every day on television, or having to pleasure high-ranking members of the mafia group just to see another sunrise. Was it really worth it all?

The young man knew what it was like to endure. More than once, especially in his teenage years, he had though about taking his life just to end it all.

\- Shiro, you… is that what you **really** want?

Shiro sighed, shaking his head. _No._ No I do not really want this? Or no, an exasperated no?

\- We can’t keep talking like this. If he realizes we are chatting, the deal will be over. I need an answer now because the offer is about to expire. No take back, no matter how I like your pretty face.

Exasperated no it is. Pff, pretty face.

Keith knew there and then how deep in trouble he was, the point of no return. He dug his hand into his pant pocket, wrenching out the red coaster he had felt digging in his hips since the beginning and dropped it on Shiro's chest. The winning smile on Shiro's face brightened up the room and Keith's heart missed a few beats.

 

Well shit.

 

\- …FINE.

Anger made him accept, anger at himself, at society, at how helpless he felt. If that was what this man wanted, he would give it everything he had.

Rushing forward, he grabbed Shiro by the nap of his neck and pulled him close roughly. The beautiful man’s body pliantly complied, clearly used to being forced by his client’s past actions. Keith barely registered the faith blush on the older man’s face when he stopped short of kissing him.

The coaster slid down Shiro's chest and slipped off the bed, landing silently on the carpet. Keith felt better about his choice, when the visible reminder of his future upcoming was not physically blaring at him anymore.

\- But you had better be ready for me, because I don’t pull any punches either.

He crushed there lips together, pushing Shiro’s open so that he could tangle their tongues in a violent battle for dominance, saliva dripping down his chin in a matter of seconds. Grabbing the man’s neck strongly, Keith kept their lips locked together as he rose higher on his knees. He then pushed him strongly backwards, making Shiro fall on the bed, hands up in surrender, face flushed, and mouth watering.

Keith climbed on his lap, ignoring every flashing red sign in his mind and following the paths to degenerate satisfaction. He grinned devilishly as a strange new comfort pulsed in his veins. The comfort of relinquishing control and giving in to his basic needs.

\- I… am going to make you cry.

Shiro groaned in pleasure, smirking up at him, visibly happy about how things were going.

\- I am hoping for it Cherrybomb. <3

 

The older man licked his lips, tilting his head softly to the side, stretching his neck into an enticing toy to chew on. Keith immediately complied, bending forward, pressing his reddening lips on the soft flesh. He sucked and kissed the quickening heartbeat as he started untying his shirt rapidly. His kisses slid up the man’s jaw, his teeth scrapping at the soft skin, until he reach his mouth again, engulfing it.

Shiro’s arms curled around his long neck, one hand greedily sliding inside the opening shirt, down his back, while the other grasped at his loosely tied hair. He pulled the elastic off, throwing it away, his mouth drinking in everything that was given to him with a deep moan. It was raw, wanting, passionate. Keith knew he would probably drown in it and regret everything once he was done. He did not care anymore.

Discarding his shirt, Keith grabbed the bottom of Shiro’s jacket and yanked it off. Shiro chuckled at the gesture.

Lips finding the man’s collarbone, Keith's fingers ran down the bulging muscles of Shiro's chest and right arm. Turning his head slightly, the young man examined the tattoos, his eyes following the curving lines and dramatic colors. _“This is really beautiful…”_ , he commented more to himself than anything else, as he took Shiro pink nipple into his mouth, circling his tongue around the rosette slowly.

Shiro’s breath hitched, growling a low _“Thank you. It's... a...aaahh!”_ , his body curving under Keith in satisfaction, he groaned some more never finishing his thought. His breathing was already ragged, as his fingers pulled softly on Keith’s unruly mane, asking for more. His body curved, his feet pushing upwards, trying to get closer to Keith's body, demanding, pleading, wanting.

Gasping in complaint, his body jerked upwards when Keith bit down around the stub, sucking even harder. His fingers played with the free nipple, before skimming down his ribs and finally tracing his rippling abs slowly. The young man peppered kisses down his body, his tongue sliding along each curve, dipping in his navel with glee. Shiro tasted like a setting sun, spicy and warm, skin smooth as the sand on a private beach, sweat sugar and salt twisted into a cocktail labeled arousal. He gasped under Keith's touch like the vocal mistress he was, responding to every breath, every kiss with fervent need.

Pressing his tongue on Shiro's hardened length was bottled satisfaction, especially when it twitched under his lips, liquid pleasure sliding down the slit and dripping on his lower stomach. Shiro whimpered his name as he took him inside his mouth. Keith sunk in inch by inch in slow torture, gripping solidly at the man's hips, opening him up like a birthday present. His head bobbed slowly, as he let his mouth water, saliva rolling along his shaft and pooling on his testicles.

Looking up, Keith could see the pleasure rendering Shiro incapable of clear thought. His entire frame vibrating, undulating, hoping to get closer to Keith's warmth, trying to sit up and failing. He eventually settle for staring down at him, eyes watering, cheeks flushed, lips bruised by their previous ardent skirmish. Keith stared back up at him through his long eyelashes, gaze intense, slurping wet sounds almost overwhelming the sound of music still filling the room.

There were a thousand things Keith could have done to break this man to pieces and he was determined to deserve every single vowel of the information he was paying for. When he knew that Shiro was close to release, he pulled back, mouth tight, sheeting his teeth with his lips as he passed the penis glans, pulling a loud whine out of the man. The gorgeous man babbled words that sounded like _“Don't stop”_ , _“I was about to...”_ and he was certain his name had been cried out quite a few times between the pleading and crying. As Keith licked his lips, happy to have had plenty of experience in the past, he smirked, using the notion that Shiro probably had no strength in his limbs left to flip him on his stomach roughly.

The man's body twisted, falling face forward in the pillows with a “ouf” as he kept panting, legs open, demanding for more. He whined again.

\- Keith... please... oh god please, why did you... why aren't you...

As the young man's hand pressed his fingers in the flesh of the perfectly rounded ass, stretching it open, he whimpered anew.

\- Keeeiith...! More MORE **MORE**!!

\- You don't get to ask anything. Now ass up.

Keith chuckled, having so much more of a good time he original though he might, forgetting about his job, about the cameras, about everything, thinking only about this game they were playing. It was a race, one he intended to win. He licked his lips as Shiro raised his hips, legs opening up eagerly. He noticed how he was shaking, his body on the edge of eruption. He would have to slow down.

Pondering for a small moment, while he relished at the simple pleasure of Shiro being a sobbing mess in front of him, he decided to use Shiro's dirty tactics. So, leaning forward, he blew softly on the pink skin, watching the goosebumps rise like a field of blooming flowers, that made Shiro curse.

\- SHIT! You, Cherrybomb, don't play fair at aaaalAAAAAAAHH!  
  
It was the little things in life that made Keith happy, like biting Shiro on the ass while he talked. That was highly enjoyable, just for the screams.

\- Neither do you White Lady. I remember really well how you've been fucking playing me for the last hour. So that's me, taking my revenge. Having fun now?

Shiro moaned a loud “Yeeesss!” when Keith slid his tongue it between his ass cheeks, curling it around the rim without mercy. Grabbing the older man by the hips, he pushed forward, forcing him to spread his legs wider, enjoying every gasp, moan and jerk of his body as he tasted another part of this phenomenal piece of ass.

\- Lube?

Grunting, Shiro, reached out for the night table, pawing at it until he was able to reach the handle. He pulled it open strongly and rummaged around until he could find what he was looking for. Throwing a red bottle of lube and some condoms Keith's way as the young man kept showering him with his insisting licks, bites and kisses. Raising up, the young man pressed his lips on Shiro's lower spine giving it a small peck.

\- Thanks.

The popping sound of the bottle opening barely sounded in the room in between Shiro's ragged wheeze and the background music. Coating his fingers in the fragrant oil, Keith rubbed his fingers together, warming its content. He slowly caressed his prey's ass, his thumb rubbing at the ridge between the soft flesh and the strong tight, nail grazing softly. Shiro's skin was flushed all the way to his back, his chest rising deeply at every breath.

When he was certain Shiro's second high had finally dropped back down, Keith pressed his slippery fingers on his cheeks, pushing a finger slowly in. Rounding his back, the perfect man under him groaned loudly, his body folding on itself as he bent his head so that he could look at the young police officer. Keith stared back, grinning wickedly as he took in the look of Shiro, eyes glazed, mouth opened wide, saliva running down his square jawline.

\- Harder. More. Please. Oh please... oh god... it's not enough... not enough...

The young man ignored the command, pumping his finger agonizingly slow. He only added a second when Shiro hit him with a leg in annoyance, pulling a laugh from his lips. Pushing the second finger in was unsurprisingly easy, so Keith proceeded in scissoring the other man just as slow, ignoring his cries. He then added a third, pushing all the way to his knuckles pressing his body against the other man's stopping him from rocking his hips faster or harder. At that point, Shiro was crying, crying for more, crying for release, hoping for Keith to finally take him. Keith pulling out his fingers was met with the neediest whine he'd every heard. He patted the man's butt gently.

\- Come on Shiro, on your back.

Shiro's body sunk down, run down with exhaustion, vibrating in frustration. He grunted as he flipped around, crashing back down on the blankets, his eyes unseeing. Keith crawled on top of Shiro and examined his face, tears were streaming down. He was completely vulnerable.

\- Are you going to die?

Shiro grinned, still enjoying the banter.

\- ...good death. You're merciless...

\- Best payment huh.

Sticking his tongue out, his stormy eyes finally focused, locking unto Keith's gaze. With tears staining his beautiful face, his mouth twisted into the most genuine smile the young man had ever seen from him.

\- Not yet pretty boy. You are short of an orgasm, you seem to always stop when I'm about to blow, it's annoying really.

\- Huhmm... but I like you better like this. This look suits you, that's true beauty.

Shiro snorted.

\- I'm fucking crying you dork. Fuck me now or you don't get anything from me. I swear to god, this is the worse torture I've ever endured.

Keith cackled in response. Sitting back on his haunches, he used the same slow pace Shiro had introduced him to since the beginning to untie his own pants. His eyes latched unto Shiro's as he barely pushed them down and just pulled his manhood out, pumping slowly as he stared right back. With his free hand, he picked up the aluminum foil and ripped it open with his teeth, unrolling its content unto his hardened member. After the application of some more lube, he finally stepped closer, to Shiro's utter and visible relief. He pressed the tip at the rim of Shiro's entrance and looked up.

\- Hold on to your sanity big boy. I've got more torture for you.

Shiro's body went rigid when the young man suddenly pushed it, filling him up to the brim in one go. His head shot back as he cried out.

\- THANK FUCK!!

 

Taking Shiro apart at that point was just a matter of time. Keith pressed slow and deep, maneuvering his hips at different angles until he found what he was looking for, his prostate. He then proceeded to hammer the man's pleasure bone relentlessly. His pace, however, remained slow, demanding and excruciating as he folded Shiro's body like a love note under him.

He felt Shiro's insides quiver around him before his orgasm hit like a monsoon, his body bending backwards as a bamboo shoot on high wind. His twisted limbs grasped at Keith, pulling him into a surprising embrace, lips swallowing him up into a needy wet kiss. His following words were muttered against his mouth in passing, between sobs and the orgasm induced high his body procured.

Three little words almost made him stop. _Please save me._ Keith had barely the time to wonder if he had heard right, when Shiro uttered them again, tears streaming down his face. _Please... please Keith... I need you... please... please save me... save me...!_

He kept sobbing, whispering the words, as Keith held him close, his hips' pace not faltering. He buried his face into Shiro's hair, chasing his own high, understanding then what the original request had been.

 

_I want you._

 

_What? M-ME?_

 

_Are you fucking serious?_

 

_Very._

 

Different words, but with one meaning.

 

_**SAVE ME.** _

 

 _I_ _want you._

 

_**PLEASE... PLEASE SAVE ME... SAVE ME...** _

 

 _I want_ _**you.** _

 

Despite everything, his body tipped over the edge with staggering intensity, making his eyes roll back in his head. His body stuttered to a halt when he became too sensitive, forcing him to slide out and crash to the side, his body curling around the other man's in a comfort he needed to give.

The sudden clarity of everything that Shiro was chilled him to the bone. A victim. Of course he was, a victim that needed saving. Shiro was a sacrifice, a future casualty if nothing was done. A prisoner of war. Something to save, a brother. But Shiro could not save himself and Keith realized he probably would have to take a very long route to reach a satisfying end.

 

New plan.

 

Taking a deep breath, he untangled himself from the other's warm body, sitting up. He took off the condom, tying it up and dropping it in the garbage can next to the night stand on his side of the bed. His words then were cold, as they needed to be, as he turned around and stared down at the man.

\- Spit it out Shiro.

Shiro's answer was his standard chuckle. He had barely moved, his face full of tears and sweat.

\- You really don’t dance around do you?

Keith stood up and stuffed his junk back in his pants, tying himself back up. He frowned, looking down at the gorgeous man, wanting to jump back in the bed for round two. He wanted to make him realize what he had just said, but knew for certain that would never happen. If Shiro was as proud as he was, he would never utter those words again.

\- No, that’s your job.

Shiro finally sat up, brushing his hair back behind his ears. He leaned in, resting his head against Keith's shoulder. The young man did not push him away.

\- Touché. Fine, the name of Zarkon’s son is Lotor Daibazaal.

Keith froze at the name. Lotor. LOTOR. That could not be. It wasn't a common name so, should he doubt it? Question it? OF COURSE he should, this was a prostitute he barely knew against the man that had practically raised him. Besides, Daibazaal wasn't Lotor's last name, it was Prince, Lotor Prince. (LOL, perfect name)

Shiro's hand was light when it pressed on Keith's cheek forcing him to look his way.

\- Don’t try to convince yourself. It really IS who you first thought of. Lotor, married to Allura Altea, no children, captain of Police station #74, east coast, New York, Zarkon’s son, only heir and future leader of the Galra mafia group. He has power beyond his father’s, is unwavering and with a charm so potent, the strongest kneel at his mere words. Lotor. Your boss.

\- That… can’t be. He…

\- …is mafia. You need to watch your back pretty boy.

Shiro smiles softly at him, caressing his cheek gently. Keith pushed his hand away, fury burning in his mind at the mere thought of being betrayed by a trusted friend, a family member, a father. A man that had done everything in his power to help him have a better life, one that had taught him everything, the man his beloved Allura had married. He had given his dignity for LIES.

He was angry. He had pitied the man and been stabbed in the back in return.

\- No. LIES. You’re spitting lies to me! Besides, Allura is…!

\- The lady does not know.

He gaped. Would Allura be so stupid? She understood everything about him, why would she not know about her own husband? Could she be this blind? Could she be blind to the real life of the man closest to her? Was she too close? Or maybe she did not, could not believe...

Sorrow filled Keith's very being. Sorry for himself, deep sorrow for Allura who stood so close to destruction he might never be able to catch her before she fell.

\- How could she not...?!

Shiro's smile was kind and sad as he slowly shook his head. He took Keith's hand gently, rubbing his thumb against his knuckles.

\- He’s a charming liar. You did not know, right?

Well, if this knowledge was true, Keith really **did** not know.

\- Really, pretty boy, I wish I was lying. Be careful.

Keith stood up and started pacing the room, agitated. He tried to analyse everything about Lotor, tried to turn the information on its head. As he kept failing, he became more and more frustrated, feeling the need to destroy something with his bare hands.

\- But he sent me here.

_White lies._

\- Yes. I got his call yesterday evening. He dangled you like a piece of prized meat and ordered me to give you this information after making you beg for it enough.

 

_White lies never really hurt anybody Keith. You need to calculate every word, every slip of your fingers. To omit information, is to be both kind and unprejudiced at times. You understand, fair._

 

Shit.

 

_...I have no time or energy to go meet them anymore._

 

Shit

 

He had dealt with this source of information for **years** .  
He knew that Shiro kept information for himself, **because he ordered him to?  
Shiro had known** about Keith, about his misery, about his family.

Too much knowledge to just find via google, he had had to talk to somebody who knew him.  
Keith trusted only two single souls with the story of his life: **Allura and Lotor**.

 

Shit. It was true. It could only be true. Shit!

 

The realization rang in Keith's head as Shiro slid off the bed. The man pulled his pants on, ignoring the fluids tainting his body, and finally fetched a small notebook from a dresser near the iPod station.

\- This is what Lotor wanted me to give you. Things the Galra can easily spare, but will show that the police are doing something. Locations, dates, expendable employees, a lot of bullshitting really. It’s detailed enough that you will receive a good pat on the back and possibly the position you wanted. Use it well.

The position he wanted. So Shiro really DID know about him. He seemed to even know A LOT.

The young officer took the book. He sighed, not even bothering to open it up.

\- …why are you telling me this Shiro?

\- You paid.

\- Is that really it?

Shiro's smile was both fond and tormented as he winked at him.

\- It has to be.

 

At that point, Keith did not feel like speaking, nor gathering any more details on the matter. He finished dressing up, handing Shiro the envelop with the payment Lotor had handed to him, not caring anymore how ridiculous the gesture was. Giving money from Lotor, to be given back to Lotor. Shiro did not comment on it, stashing it back in his dresser, replacing the notebook.

His mind felt overwhelmed by what he had learned, by what he had done. He wanted to take it all back. Take it back and begin anew, not accepting Shiro's offer and just speak of the Galra. Get the book, get out of there, end of story. His toes knocked the red coaster laying on the floor as he got off the bed. He stared at it.

 

_Please... Please save me... save me..._

 

Who was he kidding? He would probably do it all over again. Another poor soul to be saved. Another unjustified sacrifice to the powerful men of the world. That made him feel even more powerless.

 

Shiro followed him to the door when Keith decided he had had enough. He looked perfectly serene.

\- I’m glad…

Keith stopped as his hand pressed on the handle of the door, moments before opening it and fleeing this messy situation. He looked back at Shiro, puzzled.

\- About what?

Stepping closer, Shiro grabbed the dagger necklace around Keith's neck. He stared down at it, twisting it in his fingers. That made the young man look down in surprise. Nobody ever dared touching this necklace.

\- You are everything she told me you would be.

A small smile appeared on his lips as he let go. He then rested his hand on the handle over Keith's, forcing the door open.

 

_You are everything she told me you would be._

 

\- WHAT…!!!!

Shiro leaned in, keeping the door open with a large hand. Before the young man could complain any further, he pressed his warm lips on Keith's mouth. His tongue forced Keith's lips open with a moan, as he licked the back of his teeth, making the young officer's gut unfurl and his toes curl. Keith's knees almost gave way, as his eyes rolled back, his hands gripping at the air, trying to find a point of anchor, catching nothing.

After a long, sultry moment, Shiro quickly let go, roughly pushed Keith out in the corridor, grinning wickedly. He licked his lips, visibly pleased.

\- See you around Keith. <3

 

_You are everything she told me you would be._

 

Keith sharply spun around on his feet, rushing back to the door.

\- WAIT!

He was met with the hard surface of wood, as Shiro pushed it closed, his eyes unwavering until the very end. The loud sound of the lock barring the young officer out made him scream in frustration.

\- SHIRO! 

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was both a pleasure and torture to write. It took me two entire weeks to do this and I kept reading it and reading it again... I've read this so many times I'm not even sure it's good anymore. UGH!  
> But I wanted to write Shiro dancing for Keith so much, I put everything aside and DID IT.
> 
> For anybody wondering what Shiro might be dancing to...  
> I was listening to Paralyzer from Finger Eleven the entire time I was doing this, it fits? It's hot. Anyway...
> 
> I am not certain I will write anything else going with this... it feels like it needs a next chapter doesn't it? I'll have to think about it, but it's not going to be a priority. Even if I really want Shiro to be saved, presently, I am not even sure it could be possible. Huhmm...
> 
> Hope you had a fun read. =)
> 
> Kudos and comments are loved.  
> Come shout at me on Tumblr @ seiteki9
> 
> Peace out my lovelies. <3


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